The world is your oyster, they say, so fill it with pearls of semen.

The only good soul is a lost soul, and only a lost soul can find its way home.

If I were God, it’d be a whole different story, dropping fruit at will. Let them eat apples.

I think Marquette Park is one of our pearls in an oyster that we need to shine up.

Then the world's mine oyster.

Charlotte sighed inwardly. She knew her mother was serious when she started referring to shellfish. What did that mean, anyway? What's so great about the world being your oyster? Does that mean it's really hard to open, and when you do, you have something slimy and gross on the inside?